A PhysicistPart-Time Gladiator and a Demi-God Walk into a Bar
by DrRJSB
Summary: This 2-part story is in response to news that Mark Ruffalo, Scarlett Johansson, and Chris Hemsworth shot a scene in the imaginary pub, The Cormorant and Ton, in St. Abbs, Scotland, for Avengers: Infinity War. Bruce Banner and Thor have just arrived back on Midgard after the events of Thor: Ragnarok. First on Bruce's list is tracking down Natasha and finding out where they stand.
1. Chapter 1

****Notes:**** This two-part story is written in response to news that Mark Ruffalo, Scarlett Johansson, and Chris Hemsworth were all shooting a daylight scene in the imaginary pub, The Cormorant and Ton, in the real town of Saint Abbs on the southeastern coast of Scotland in early May of 2017 for _Avengers: Infinity War_. _Thor: Ragnarok_ doesn't arrive in theaters till November 3, 2017, so this is a wishful tale of what many hope will become canon in the films. The first part, "Evening Song," is fluffy romance and the second, "Till the Wee Hours, is mature. Many, many thanks to Autumn_Froste and EmilyGracie13 for Beta-Reader, hand-holder, and cheerleader duties. Thanks to SummerSummerNights303 for help with the Russian-Bruce sounds so much smarter now. Please enjoy!

 ** **Play List:**** "MacCrimmon's Sweetheart" arr. by Heather Heywood; "Caledonia" by Celtic Woman; "Free Falling" by Tom Petty; "All of Me" by John Legend; and "Honeymoon"by Lana Del Rey

The "Poster"/Collage/Cover for this work is posted on my Pinterest Board: DrRJSB "My Bruce x Natasha Edits".

A Physicist/Part-Time

Gladiator and a Demi-God Walk into a Bar

Part One: Evening Song

"I don't think she's coming," Bruce said again as he looked across the table at his traveling companion and "friend from work." He almost disliked that description as much as the Big Guy did, but it was no worse than "Mighty Bros," which his alter ego did sort of like. He hated to sound this whiney, but he'd fought most of his way back across the galaxy to find her. Waiting around a local pub in a very small fishing village on the southeastern coast of Scotland as the afternoon faded into evening wasn't Bruce's idea of making much progress—not when they were this close.

Thor smiled indulgently at his sometimes comrade in arms and ran his hand through his own short-cropped hair. His fair locks were finally starting to grow back, but it was going to be a good while till they reached their former glory. "Ah, friend Bruce, patience. We've confirmed that she is employed here. The good fellow in charge of libations said she might not attend till the evening when her job starts." He leaned forward and reached across the small table to pat the physicist's arm reassuringly. "The good news is your secure phone still works, using our hidden accounts hasn't brought our enemies down upon us, and this establishment is civilized enough to have an ample supply of acceptable ale," Thor said as he counted their pieces of luck off on his solidly-built fingers.

"They also have amazingly decent Wi-Fi and no one has asked us about our odd clothes yet," Bruce added to the handful of positives as he looked around the public room with its scattering of mostly old men hunched over a chess board and a few teens to twenty-somethings playing at an online game on their laptops and sharing a basket of chips.

"Why would they question us about our garments?" the demi-god asked with a puzzled expression.

"We look a little out of place by at least two realms and a few centuries," the scientist groused as he shifted uneasily in his layered monochrome garb.

"Humph," Thor snorted, "the young lady who brought the drinks said we looked very 'authentic'."

"Maybe for Comic-Con escapees or a fire juggling act, but we're not going to blend in looking like this for long."

"Ha, then it's just as well we're laying low in a pleasant village like this in the Land of the Scotts," Thor said confidently.

"Uhuuurrr!" Bruce moaned through gritted teeth as he closed his eyes and pretended to bang his head on the table out of exasperation. In the back of his mind, the Big Guy chuckled and offered to punch the friend-formerly-called-Blondie a good one. Bruce was about ready to take him up on it. "We can't just hang around here. I told you what's happened to the team since we left. They've been torn apart and some were arrested or possibly abducted. Tony left me a message in my sub account saying to stay away from both the tower and the new Avengers facility upstate for now. We have huge things we need to tell them, too. How can you be so calm?"

Having been with Bruce for a good while now, through thick and thin and the start of the end times, the thunder god did his best not to sound patronizing. "Bruce, I simply meant that it's okay to take one step at a time. Even if we had everything planned down to the smallest detail, we don't control what our friends do or even when they arrive at their place of work. As Tony might phrase it, we have time to 'chill,' so let's look at the menu and you can tell me what a Scotch Egg is because it sounds delightful. I bet Hulk would enjoy Bangers and Mash just from how the name sounds."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply, and took out his glasses to read the menu, "You're right. Food would be good. It's just been such a long time. She's probably still mad at me or thinks I'm mad at her."

"Well, _are_ you mad at her?"

"No, of course not," he said with a frown. "I knew why she pushed me off the ledge before I even hit the bottom of the hole. I was a little pissed off, but she knew there was no way to convince me in time. It was the right call."

"So, you think _she_ is mad at _you_?"

"That's the million-credit question," Bruce said with a sigh. "To answer your earlier question, it's a hardboiled egg in a crust of meat."

"Oh, that's even better than what I was imagining," Thor said. He always found appetizers confusing since he'd ordered Buffalo wings and they turned out to be from some sort of small fowl and not from a winged bison.

"I'll get a big order of Scotch eggs and the fish and chips ought to be good here. Want anything else yet?" Bruce asked as he stood up, pocketed his glasses, and straightened his tunic jacket and all in one.

"I've not tried the cider yet."

"It's hard cider, but that's probably the way you like it," Bruce said with a grin, recovering some of his good humor.

"Ah, you know me, friend Bruce!" the warrior agreed.

Bruce made his way between the dark oak tables and approached Maeve the sandy-haired waitress, who was now behind the bar, so he could put in their order. She read it back to Bruce correctly then asked him, "You're a waitin' fer Nat, right?"

"Yah, we are," he said.

"Then I got sumit for ye," she quickly reached down below the bar and Bruce barely stopped himself from instinctively throwing his body under a table as Maeve pulled out a very large manila envelope. "Oi, yer a jumpy one," she said with a laugh as she handed the thick packet over to him. "Nattie said you were a dark-eyed cutie, too. She weren't wrong." The younger woman grinned at him and disappeared behind the kitchen door.

Bruce stood there feeling rather stunned, not because the waitress had called him a "dark-eyed cutie," but because Natasha had, which meant she had thought of him in a positive way. Oh, yes, he'd take that any day! Bruce sat back down at the table and looked at the big envelop that he now realized had more than paper in it.

"My that's a large piece of correspondence. I doubt a raven could carry that," Thor surmised.

"Or an owl," Bruce guessed. He pulled a slim dagger out of a sheath in his boot; airport security was going to love the two of them if they tried to fly anywhere. Bruce carefully cut along the top of the envelop and pulled the contents out onto the table. Most of the paperwork was intel and obviously meant to catch the two of them up, but there were also a couple of room keys from the B&B Cottage across the street/parking lot on the hillside, passports, and other necessary documents and such for both of them—all under aliases of course. As they sorted through the contents and pocketed the IDs, Thor slid a paperclipped folder over to Bruce. It had his name on it.

Bruce hesitated a moment before slipping off the clip and opening the folder. Inside were three smaller envelops: one green, one white, and one blue. He opened them and they all turned out to be birthday cards. His chest constricted, and he shut his eyes tight. Natasha always remembered. Ever since she'd read the date in his files, she'd not forgotten to give him a card on December 18th. They were usually silly or cute ones. The joke was that he didn't know when hers was—hell, she didn't know when hers really was either—so he picked the occasional random day for hers. It was a good pretext to ask her out to dinner or a movie or a show without the pressure of it being a real date. He'd bought her a few things, too. He slipped his hand inside his breast pocket and touched the small box inside it to center himself.

"Well, aren't you going to read them?" Thor asked expectantly. He was obviously more interested in providing guidance to the lovelorn than digging into the stack of depressing intel. Bruce couldn't blame him. Even his tragically pathetic love life was preferable to finding out the painful details of what had happened between their friends in their absence.

Bruce carefully slit open the envelopes with his blade and laid the cards out. There were no dates, so he had to read them to put them in order. They were all the same brand of cards she liked. One had a beach scene, another had a pair of finches, and the third was a sketch of a cabin by a lake in the woods. Along with the brief, trite verses wishing him a happy birthday that came printed in the card, she'd written in the first one, "Still waiting for a postcard from you. Hope wherever you landed that you're safe. If I don't hear from you soon, I will come looking for you!" The second one with the birds said, "I miss you, but I'm glad you're not here to see what's happened in the past year. I love you and hope you're safe. Did I say I missed you?" The final one had the most written in it: "I've thought about you every day since Sokovia, and my feelings for you haven't gone away. I'm pretty certain you're someplace where you can't leave or don't want to. Both of these options scare me shitless, but I don't want to think about the third. I would give anything just to know you're safe." All of them were signed, "Love, N." He swallowed hard and felt sick to his stomach. Damn it! Where was she?

Thor finished reading the last card and looked at his friend sympathetically. "Friend Bruce, you were a captive. This long absence is not your fault. Natasha will understand this when you explain it to her." He folded the cards up and handed them back to Bruce who slipped them into their respective envelopes. "It's rather unfortunate they don't have postcards or florists or Amazon gifts on Sakaar. Darcy and Clint have both pointed out their importance to me when mending relationships. I'm sure Natasha will understand."

Bruce did bark out a dry laugh at that in spite of himself. "Another fine business opportunity squandered," he quipped dryly. He wasn't about to suggest unleashing Valentine's Day on the universe because the thunder god might just take him up on it.

Maeve the waitress arrived with their food just in time because the pub was starting to fill as the sun went down. It was a Friday night and there was going to be live music soon. Bruce had guessed right about the excellence of the fish and the number of Scotch eggs necessary for Thor's appetizer course. One of the locals recommended the Cullen Skink or smoked haddock chowder, so they had some of that with oat biscuits and butter. Thor ordered a second bowl.

Drink-wise, Bruce didn't try to keep up with his friend past one cider, so he was people watching when a man in his early thirties with shaggy brown hair brought out a couple of microphone stands and tall stools. The man placed them on the low stage that took up the far corner of the common room along with an old upright piano. The fellow disappeared out the backdoor and returned with a guitar and some other instruments Bruce couldn't identify by the shape of their cases. The physicist checked his phone for the time since his watch was still back somewhere on Sakaar along with his old Zune from the quinjet crash through the wormhole. Bruce imagined them is a junk shop in the bazar gathering dust or stashed in some Ravager's front pocket. At least his good headphones were probably still in his apartment. Anyway, Natasha should have arrived by now. He stood up and searched the room one more time before looking at Thor who shook his shorn head. "Keep an eye out. I need to go use the facilities," Bruce told him over the increasing noise and hubbub as more people drifted in, mostly locals and weekend fishing tours or hikers from the Berwickshire Coastal Path. Bruce walked down a narrow hall and waited since the restroom was occupied. The shaggy-haired guy who'd been setting up the equipment exited the men's room and grinned at him.

"Hey, Dr. Banner," he said, offering his freshly washed hand to shake. Bruce was a little startled, but shook it and looked at him closely. He was obviously an American. The man brushed his long hair back with his fingers so Bruce could see his face better. "It's Thomas Stevenson. I worked with Nat. She introduced us at one of Stark's parties four or five years ago."

"Oh, the symphony fundraiser, I do remember you," Bruce said with relief as he shook the musician's hand more firmly. "Please, just call me Bruce. It's nice to see you again, Thomas. I guess you've re- . . . oh! Um, right. So, you're playing tonight?"

"Yah, you've got it," Thomas said with relief at not having his cover completely blown. "Natasha should be here any minute. I'll see you out there."

Bruce went in, used the facilities, and quickly returned back down the hall to the main room. He could hear the small band of four instruments strike up a folk tune before he saw them. To his relief no one had brought in bagpipes, but one of the laptop gamers was on acoustic guitar, another had a hand drum, Thomas was playing the fiddle, and an older woman was playing the flute as she sat at the piano bench. Bruce still didn't see Natasha, so he picked his way through the tables back to his seat with Thor. The mighty one's blue eyes were twinkling with mischief almost as brightly as his adopted brother's. A half dozen shot glasses of the house's best Scotch were lined up on the table with three in front of Bruce's seat.

"You know I don't drink the hard stuff," Bruce said, not wanting to sit down while the alcohol was there staring him in the face.

"Except for cider," Thor noted. "Come on, you're not driving a car or flying a ship. The cottages are just up the slope. Relax. She will come when she comes. Maybe she's already here and feeling shy. Let's get you loosened up and see if you hold your liquor as well as Hulk."

That really was the wrong thing to say. "You are out of your freaking mind," Bruce told him in a low calm voice as he took his seat. "In case you don't remember, the only reason I would drink would be to get drunk, and my metabolism burns it away so fast that all I get to enjoy is the hangover."

"Come now, Bruce, you have a full belly. That should settle things out and prevent any so-called hangoveredness. You'll feel better in the long run and less tense."

"If it will shut you up," Bruce said, letting his temper get the better of him. He picked up one of the glasses and downed it in one smooth gulp. He smacked his lips. "Just like Dad used to drink. I hope you're happy now." He should have just told his friend about his father and his fear of becoming like him. He doubted Thor had read his file. Bruce decided he would tell him, but not tonight because it was just too big of a mess to explain unless they were both sober or he himself was shitfaced drunk.

Thor raised an eyebrow and gave him a respectful nod. "Hulk downed three tankards worth of something similar and all it did was mellow him out. Where is your sense of adventure, Bruce?"

"I'm waiting on her to show up right now," the scientist replied with more sass and salt than normal. He probably should have warned Mr. Odinson he could be a mean drunk, but Bruce was sick of waiting, sick of wearing clothes that reminded him of his enslavement in a distant place, sick of the fact that he'd grown used to them and so much else. He didn't want to admit he'd liked not having to think, whether he was trapped in Hulk's head or not. Had he really done all that he could to get back to her? Much of the early part was a haze. It had grown so easy just to drift and do what he was told after the crash and the capture. He really didn't want to remember what he'd done in that zombie-like state. He'd woken up broken and bleeding, praying Hulk would find a way to come despite the drugs. Tony's voice from years before echoed in his head: _Really?! That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls._

Bruce rubbed the partially healed wound over his right breast where the obedience disk had been implanted. The disks caused shocking pain and sometimes delivered something that made you not care about it hurting. The arena master had used it to bring out Hulk, and the devices delivered punishment to him if he wasn't compliant. Admittedly, Hulk did enjoy the arena. He understood how to knock the crap out of things, and he quickly learned how to please the crowd while he was doing it. The irony was, the longer Hulk was out, the smarter he got and the more subversive he became in his resistance. Before long, he was shrewd enough to make peace with Bruce and learn from him. Bruce might not be best friends with Hulk, but he respected his alter ego because the Big Guy was the one who'd gotten them through the worst of it. When Bruce had given up, Hulk reminded him whom he was fighting to get back to. It was hard for Bruce to admit he'd been wrong about his alter ego for so long, but he'd learned to trust the Big Guy. Bruce could feel Hulk and understand him most of the time now. He knew Hulk would have been happy if he could be free and still fight in the arena. That was someplace he might have been content, but the Big Guy gave that dream up to help get them home.

Bruce clapped automatically when the first song ended. He should have been paying better attention. The band began to play another number with the flautist switching over to the piano. Bruce picked up the second shot glass, and Thor picked up his glass as well. "To absent friends," Bruce offered, so they clinked them together and swallowed the whiskey down. He'd been raised to ignore the burn "like a Banner," but the drink was actually pretty smooth for what it was. Bruce rubbed at his chest again. The disk's wound still throbbed with his pulse beneath his fingertips. He didn't have to see it to know the disfigurement looked like an angry purple sunburst.

He and Hulk's last act of defiance had been to rip the disk and the extensive tubes and wires that came with it out of their flesh before their tormentors could shock or drug Hulk back into submission. They both knew from past experience the massive dose needed to calm Hulk would knock Bruce comatose for days. The first time an overseer had used the sedative function, the drugging nearly killed them both. Eventually, their body began to tolerate the toxins, so when Thor showed up, the two decided to take a desperate gamble on how much pain and poison both of them could stand and keep functioning. In the end, Hulk had shielded Bruce, and Bruce got them all out.

Since then, weeks had gone by and the wound still hadn't healed normally. At least it had quit oozing orange and black fluids within the first few days, and then the shaking had mostly stopped. With the toxins out, the tissues began to knit closed, but it still looked like a mess. Bruce snorted bitterly when he thought of comparing scars with Tony. Hulk believed it would heal when they transformed, but they'd not had a chance to test this hypothesis since they escaped. Hulking out wasn't such a wise idea on a spacecraft or if you didn't want to call attention to yourself.

Bruce looked over at his friend and picked up the third shot glass. "To Love in all its forms," Thor offered philosophically and tapped his glass against Bruce's glass. Geeze, they were both getting mellow alright, but it was okay. She would be here, and it would all be okay.

"To Love," Bruce agreed and emptied the glass and set it down. It hardly burned at all now. He was feeling a little warm and slightly buzzed, but it was pleasant. The song, something historical about a battle, ended and they clapped again. He'd be sober once more in a half hour if he stopped drinking. He believed he'd stop for now. This was turning into _Waiting for Godot_ with a folk music soundtrack. If Thor wanted to do another set of threes, he might not put up much of a fight. Damn it, Natasha. No, he'd had enough booze. He didn't want to slide from a salty mellow drunk into a sloppy one. Was that a thing?

The musicians were taking a quick break, and Thomas switched out his violin for a clàrsach or Celtic harp. He soon pulled up the microphone to speak while they got ready for the next set. "Thank you, everyone. We're The Bruce's Spider and most of you know us as the house band here at the Cormorant and Tun. We're really fortunate this week to welcome back my dear, dear friend who's not from around these parts either, but she fits right in. Never fear, she does know her way around some ballads old and new. I'm proud to introduce, Ms. Nat Roberts."

Bruce had been scanning the room for her, so he nearly jumped when a hand trailed along his arm, and she walked past him on the way to the stage, giving him a smile over her shoulder. Her hair was a few shades darker than the last time he'd seen her and flowed down past her shoulders. Thor leaned over and stage whispered, "Ha! She was behind us the whole time!"

Natasha hopped lightly up onto the low platform and took a mic. Bruce thought her legs looked amazingly long in tight black jeans, but she'd softened her look a bit with a russet sweater. "Guid evenin! It's nice to be back. Let's start this set off with something traditional. This is 'MacCrimmon's Sweetheart' and the arrangement is by Heather Heywood." The crowd applauded. Apparently, it was a favorite. He knew from experience that she had a lovely singing voice, but that didn't prepare him at all for the song.

 _O'er Coolin's speaks the night is creeping,_

 _The banshee's croon is round us sweeping;_

 _Green eyes in Duin are dim with weeping,_

 _Since thou art gone and ne'er returnest._

 _No more, no more, no more returning;_

 _In peace nor in war is he returning;_

 _Till dawns the great day of doom and burning,_

 _MacCrimmon is home no more returning._

Bruce hadn't moved or taken his eyes off her since she'd swept past him. The lament touched him deeply in ways he couldn't put into words. He wanted to shout he was back and he wasn't leaving till she told him he had to go.

 _In peace nor in war is he returning_

 _Till dawns the great day of woe and burning,_

 _For him, there's no more returning._

The ballad ended and he continued to stare, wanting to catch her eye, but she didn't look at him. This was torture, but deep down, he felt he'd earned some of it. Leaving had been such a mistake, yet it had been fortuitous he and Hulk had been there for Thor. Hulk and he had needed that respite to reach a truce.

Natasha smiled as the crowd clapped and shouted their approval. If Bruce had looked, he'd have seen many eyes were damp, including those of his large traveling companion. Nat took a drink from her bottle of water and cleared her throat. "Thank ya. That can be a tough one to sing when you've lost someone. Let's try a more modern song that's gotten quite popular." She looked over at Thomas who plucked out an introduction on his clàrsach that was familiar to the crowd. Someone cried out "Caledonia!" and many laughed. Natasha smiled as she started to sing.

 _I don't know if you can see_

 _The changes that have come over me_

 _These last few days I've been afraid_

 _That I might drift away_

 _I've been telling old stories, singing songs_

 _That make me think about where I've come from_

 _That's the reason why I seem_

 _So far away today_

 _Let me tell you that I love you_

 _That I think about you all the time_

 _Caledonia you're calling me_

 _Now I'm going home_

Bruce didn't know this song, so he listened closely to her words as if she was singing them just for him.

 _Now I have moved and I've kept on moving_

 _Proved the points that I needed proving_

 _Lost the friends that I needed losing_

 _Found others on the way_

 _I've kissed the fellas and left them crying_

 _Stolen dreams, yes, there's no denying_

 _I've traveled hard sometimes with conscience flying_

 _Somewhere with the wind_

Then Natasha turned her head and looked directly at him. Their eyes locked from one to another as she sang in her clear voice:

 _Let me tell you that I love you_

 _That I think about you all the time_

 _Caledonia you're calling me_

 _Now I'm going home_

 _But if I should become a stranger_

 _Know that it would make me more than sad_

 _Caledonia's been everything I've ever had_

Thor leaned over again, "Friend Bruce, she is definitely not singing about Scotland."

"I know," Bruce agree and stood up. He really needed air.

Thor touched his arm, "Where are you going?"

"I can't breathe. I'm going out in the parking lot. I'll be right back." What he really wanted to do was walk up to the stage, take her in his arms, and refuse to let her go. Hulk was in complete agreement with that approach, but warned Bruce he better watch out for her elbows and knees. _Thanks a lot, Big Guy, but that's probably not appropriate_. Bruce looked at Natasha and she'd turned away.

 _But I'm steady thinking my way is clear_

 _And I know what I will do tomorrow_

 _When hands have shaken, the kisses flowed_

 _Then I will disappear_

He couldn't endure the tightness and aching in his chest any longer. He turned and made his way to the door and stepped out into the night. The wind and spray coming off the North Sea was bracing as he sucked in the cool, damp air, trying to catch his breath. He could smell and hear the waves crashing against the sea walls the village was famous for all around him. The smoky Scotch buzz had definitely burned off.

Bruce made his way across the mostly lit and paved lot and around a number of cars to a low stone retaining wall. There was also a staircase that led up the hillside, presumably to the cottages where they were staying. He sat down on the wall and put his head in his hands. His mind was clearing, and the wind cooperated so he could hear the next song starting up. It sounded a little happier. Thank God! He wasn't sure he could take anymore ballades—old, new, borrowed, blue, or otherwise. "Damn it!" he swore. She had to understand!

Bruce stood up and squared his shoulders. If he was going to do something really stupid, at least he was doing it sober and with a clear head. He checked his breast pocket like a talisman. Her voice was low and sultry like he remembered, but he nearly went green when she spoke right next to him.

"Tell me, are you my MacCrimmon come back from beyond?" Natasha asked as she stepped around him and into the circle of light he was occupying.

"That depends. Do I have to be dead for you to forgive me?" he asked more harshly than he'd intended.

"I just want you back. Back in one piece would be good," she said and retreated an uncertain step.

"Natasha, please . . ." He couldn't seem to get any other words out as he stared at her.

The spy finally smiled at him with that knowing little off-kilter smirk he loved so much playing across her face. To be fair, she looked tired with a bit of a dark circle under each eye, defying her concealer under the bright security light. He thought she looked about as tightly strung as he was. Otherwise, she seemed to be okay. He liked her hair a little longer like this. She looked good in her tight jeans and the soft brownish-red sweater.

Natasha had seen the two men arrive earlier as they hiked around the little bay from the rocky headland that sheltered the fishing village, and she knew when they entered the only public house in town. Natasha suspected Asgardian magic being involved in their tracking her down, but she could wait till later to figure that out. Right now, her eyes were for Bruce and only Bruce. His hair had gone further gray, and it was almost military short. She wanted to reach out and touch him, run her fingers through that hair and across his limbs to make certain he was all there and okay underneath the strange clothing. She could get lost in those dark eyes of his if she wasn't careful. First, she had to know. Natasha steeled herself. Bruce was the one who had left, and he needed to be the one to make the first move now that she'd had her say through the music. Fortunately, he didn't keep her waiting any longer.

"I . . . I've missed you," he stammered, "and I'm really sorry it's taken almost three years to find you again. So many things have happened. I have so much to tell you. I know this sounds like a horrible excuse, but I came back as soon as I could get here. I'm just so sorry, Nat."

Natasha saw the sincerity in those dark brown eyes and his honest, expressive features. She couldn't stay aloof. "I'm sorry, too," she blurted. Why was she finding this so difficult to say? "Please understand, Bruce, people were going to die. I had to . . ." she started to plead her case.

Bruce had stepped forward and held out his hand to touch her lips, "No, no, it's okay. I do understand. There's no need to explain. You absolutely did the right thing, Natasha. You don't need to apologize for . . ."

She closed the rest of the gap between them and settled into his warm arms. He didn't hesitate to meet her lips as they clung to each other. Soon, he was smearing her lipstick with his eager kisses, but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered. In this moment, he was her world and she was his.

Thor had given Natasha a few minutes' lead when the song had ended and she'd headed for the back door. He looked across the parking lot and spotted them in each other's arms. Ah, his work there was done for the evening. He waved and gave them a thumbs-up sign. Bruce waved him off and returned the thumbs-up gesture. The demi-god grinned broadly and headed back inside to reclaim the table. The sandy-haired waitress—Maeve, was it?—met him at the door. She had brought him something called "Toad inna Hole," which he was looking forward to trying. "I don't think my friends will be back, so just put their food and drinks on my bill."

The young woman chuckled with amusement and shook her head, "Yer a pal. I'd say they need ta get a room, but they awready ave a cootage." The demi-god just nodded with an approving smile on his face. He was certain Bruce wasn't going to need his room key. As he sat back down to enjoy the rest of the evening, the next musical group performing finished tuning their electric guitars and adjusting speakers as the drummer loosened up with a solo riff on her impressive collection of drums and percussion. The Thunderer thought this band looked like it would be fun.

 ** **End Notes:**** Next up is "Till the Wee Hours". Please let me know what you think and it will go up faster.

If you like Bruce x Natasha and liked this, please check out my other works both short and massive. Please pass the word to friends you think might enjoy this, too!


	2. Chapter 2

****Summary:**** Natasha and Bruce don't miss their window. They run with it! Well, actually, they try to go nice and slow. If you can't guess what's coming next, you haven't read the first chapter.

Notes: Thank you to my Beta folks! Things don't get done without them. Please note: This is the mature part. Plenty of fluffiness but there will be "smut".

This story would take place after Thor 3: Ragnarok and, one would hope, at the beginning of Avengers: Infinity War, so I'm going out on a limb and prognosticating.

 ** **Play List:****  
"MacCrimmon's Sweetheart" arrangement by Heather Heywood  
"Caledonia" by Celtic Woman  
"Free Falling" by Tom Petty  
"All of Me" by John Legend  
"Honeymoon" by Lana Del Rey

Nope, I don't own a thing!

 ** **Part Two: Till the Wee Hours****

"I think he got the message," Bruce told her as Thor returned to the Cormorant and Ton with one last enthusiastic wave.

"I'm not worried. Maeve and Thomas will make sure he passes out in the right cottage," Natasha affirmed as she wiped her lipstick off his face. "You're among friends here."

He nodded. That eased a few of his worries and helped quiet Hulk. "You're sure about _this_?" he asked her more seriously as he nodded his head in the direction of the slope with the cottages and what that implied.

"As sure as I have ever been about anything in my life, Doc," Natasha told him. "It's not every day you find a second window." He swallowed hard. She could feel Bruce was almost humming with tension. "We'll go slow, Doc." Natasha kissed him one more time, and she took his left hand and led him up the stone steps to the second cabin. The wind brought the strains of Tom Petty's "Free Falling" to them, and they both laughed as some of the nervousness broke.

"I can't think of a more ironically inappropriate song they could possibly play at this moment," Bruce declared as he shook his head. The two were standing on a stone-paved patio outside the second cottage, looking back down the slope at the pub.

She stepped in front of him, glad to see him really smile at last. He finally sounded like her sweet dorky guy. Natasha took his hands in hers, and their fingers interwove. "Sing it," she told him. "I know you remember the words."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Bruce said and chewed his lower lip. He'd not really sung much since they'd done it to kill time on missions or other times they'd been together and just felt like it. That seemed so long ago yet so close now.

"Please, Doc? I sang for you," Natasha pointed out as she wrapped her arms around his waist and began to slow dance him around the cottage's small veranda. The lights were on inside, and they lit up the stone pavement well enough to see. Natasha quirked her eyebrow and gave him that I-dare-you look, which brought out his oppositional and conspiratorial sides—always such a tempting combination for him. Lord knows, Tony had taken that tactic plenty of times to get him out of his shell.

"They'll be saying they heard a banshee howl," Bruce warned her before he joined in on the next verse with his pleasant tenor:

 _All the vampires walkin' through the valley_

 _Move west down Ventura Boulevard_

 _And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows_

 _All the good girls are home with broken hearts_

Okay, that was a little mean on her part to make him sing that, but he understood why she wanted him to do it. That was fine. After all, he'd found her, and now that he knew she still felt the same, he knew it was going to be more than just okay. Bruce stepped up and led her more certainly as they slow danced.

 _Free fallin', now I'm free fallin'_

 _Now I'm, free, free fallin', now I'm free fallin'_

 _I wanna glide down over Mulholland_

 _I wanna write her name in the sky_

 _I'm gonna free fall out into nothin'_

 _Gonna leave this world for awhile_

 _And I'm free, free fallin'_

 _Yeah, I'm free, free fallin'_

Natasha pulled him into a kiss as they continued to slow dance around the patio as the music faded away. "See, that wasn't so bad," she said as she let him go. She already had her key in hand and opened the door to usher him inside. Bruce stepped into a pleasant though compact living room with a couple of loveseats and an easy chair. The kitchen and dining area were just a few steps away and looked equally cozy. There was a bedroom and bath in the back. Bruce turned around, and she locked the door behind them. He pulled down the only window shade that was left up and met her in the middle of the room. She wrapped her arms around him and just hugged him, burying her face in his chest, and in a moment, she was shaking with sobs.

Bruce held her gently. "It's okay," he said as he stroked her hair. "I'm here now. We're both safe, and I'm not leaving unless you want me to go. It's all right, Natasha. I'm here for keeps." She deserved the chance to let go of all this built-up pain and tension, and he was truly touched that she trusted him enough to lay down her layers of armor and toughness because he'd really hurt her. He knew this was all about the worry and waiting over the past three years. He couldn't be there to stand beside her then, but from now on he would be by her side.

"Do you swear?" she tearfully demanded after a few minutes.

"By everything I believe in and hold dear, I will not leave you," Bruce promised her. Now he was tearing up, too. He tilted his head back and tried to breath as deeply and slowly as possible. This was going to get ugly real fast if he let go, too. "Now, do you promise not to push me in a freaking hole again just to get me to Hulk out?"

Natasha shook again, but this time she was laughing when she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. He finally spotted a box of tissues within reach and grabbed them off the end table for her. "I'm sorry. I'll do my best not to force you like that again." Natasha reached up and stroked his brow, missing his curls a bit. She took another tissue and blotted her eyes before she wiped her nose. "This was not how I pictured this happening."

He finally blew his nose, too. "Are you sure? I always imagined us all snotted up with runny noses and red eyes. Lipstick everywhere," he joked as he wiped the final smudge off her cheek. She did laugh at that. Bruce guided her down onto one of the love seats and settled beside her. Natasha touched his face, which was still so open and handsome despite everything he'd probably been through if she could believe what Tony had passed along. Bruce's jaw was getting a bit rough with stubble, but that felt so comforting right at the moment. Natasha stared into his beautiful brown eyes that he and Hulk sometimes shared. She wanted to get lost in them now. A cover of a John Legend song was drifting up from the pub—if nothing else, the band was certainly picking them eclectic tonight. "'Cause all of me loves all of you . . ."

Bruce tilted his head and leaned in to kiss her lush mouth. They started gradually. He opened his lips and she darted her tongue in, humming with pleasure as his left hand rubbed up her thigh then went to her right hip and down to her shapely backside. She playfully bit at his lower lip. His right hand went to the nape of her neck then slid closer to her face as he stroked her jaw with his thumb. She opened her mouth to his gently probing tongue, and he kissed her deeply. Bruce breathed in her citrus and musky floral scent as they continued to kiss. Her lips were so insistent and ripe for his attentions. He could feel the two of them both humming and falling into sync, like they really were meant to be together.

Making out was nice, but before long they both wanted more. He shifted his torso to the back of the loveseat; then, arching his spine, he lifted her on top of him, and she straddled his hips. He pulled up the bottom of her sweater and shifted his hands to her breasts, kneading them firmly through her bra. He used his thumbs to circle her areolas until her nipples tightened and stood out.

Natasha moaned, "Oh, yes, Bruce. I like this." She arched her back and smiled down from on top of him.

Bruce leaned forward so he could reach around her and unfasten her bra, but he started to chuckle and lay back against the cushion, completely breaking the momentum they'd built up. She looked at him with a puzzled expression. "That has to be part of a holster because bras generally don't come packing that much protection in the back," he said with an amused smile.

"Oh, shit, I completely forgot. I took the gun out, but the mount for the holster is still there. Help me with the sweater please." He pulled the furry red-brown knitted fluff off over her head and outstretched arms to reveal that part of a custom back harness without the full holster was still attached to her bra. Natasha leaned forward over him with her left arm braced against the back of the loveseat while Bruce leaned around her right side to unfasten the harness component and detach it from her lingerie. He smiled wryly and tossed the offending piece of leather on the coffee table.

Natasha leaned back, and he kissed her chest above and between her breasts, trying not to beard her with his stubble. "This is nice," he said in a low voice as he ran his hands over her arms.

"It would be nicer if I knew how to get your clothes off without having to hack them to pieces," she said with a perplexed look as she scrutinized his drab dark taupe Sakaaran wear, looking for some obvious way to get it off. He let out an exasperated sound then leaned forward and rubbed his forehead into her chest. "You're not trapped in them, are you, Bruce?"

"No, sorry, but you're going to have to get up first," he said as he leaned back, momentum stalled again. Natasha stood up and gave him a hand to his feet. "Okay," he explained, "it starts out like Captain Kirk's wraparound, fat-Shatner uniform." He showed her how the tunic fastened under the arms and opened it up. "And the pants are like Mr. Greenjeans' overalls—real sexy, huh?" He held the tunic back to show her the suspender straps and undergarment. The material was nearly indestructible, and dirt either didn't stick or blended right in—he wasn't entirely sure how yet. Tony might want to help figure it out.

"It does have that unisex vibe from the first Trek film," Natasha surmised with a snort. "Don't you dare fasten it back. I want to get you out of these," she said with determination. Natasha pulled the tunic-jacket thing off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor where it hit with a thud since it carried several objects in the pockets. "Crap, I hope I didn't break something?"

Bruce picked the clothing up and pulled the detritus from the pockets. The old Strarkphone was fine as were various other small tools and other things he'd learned to pocket when overseers weren't looking. Bruce was a little embarrassed about the sock Hulk and he used for a wallet. There were a few last pieces of blue candy that Hulk liked and had to be reminded to unwrap. Bruce finally came to the delicate box in his breast pocket. "I've been saving this for your birthday," he joked, and he handed her the case.

It was made of a semi-translucent metal that was like cloudy alabaster but thinner. The top slid back to reveal a simple ring of even stranger material that was dark until Natasha touched it. The ring lit up subtlety with starlight like a telescope image or a piece of the galaxy on her palm. She looked up at him and he nodded, "Put it on. It's an Eternity Ring. Lovers give them on Sakaar." As she slid it into place on her left hand, she heard Bruce whisper to her, "I adore you, too."

Damn, she was going to tear up again. "Best birthday present ever," Natasha told Bruce as she hugged and then kissed him. She touched his shoulders and his bare arms, stroking down his dark-haired forearms to his hands. Nat could feel the scar tissue beneath the skin, which she knew meant he'd had injuries that hadn't healed until he Hulked out. She looked at his hands, rubbing over the callouses she was certain hadn't been there before either.

Bruce raised his right hand to touch her face, cupping her jaw and slowly tracing her lips with his thumb. Natasha unfastened his remaining garment's straps and pulled the overalls down to his hips. She could see his undergarment was all of one piece like an old-fashioned union suit. She bent down and unlaced his boots before she pulled them off. Those didn't look to be "prison issue", so she wouldn't burn them unless he wanted them destroyed, too. Natasha pulled the overalls the rest of the way down, and Bruce stepped out of them. He thought of the undergarment as something like a Victorian bathing suit or even a child's onesie: definitely not something attractive. She ran her hands over his well-muscled legs and felt more of the same healed-over injuries. What the fuck had they done to him? She was going to find out, and she was going to kill them . . . slowly and with great satisfaction, but that could wait. She put away her anger for a time when she could serve it up to someone good and cold.

He'd been watching Natasha's reactions and knew she was getting more and more agitated as she deduced some of what had happened to him. Bruce could guess what was coming as she stood up and started unfastening the top part of his underthings. He wanted to warn her, but what do you say about a disfigurement like his? If they were going to be intimate, he couldn't hide it from her. She pulled the shirt opened and inhaled sharply as she stared at the purplish half-healed wound from the disk, "Who did this to you, Bruce?"

"It's partly self-inflicted. Hulk and I removed an obedience disk, so we could leave Sakaar. It should heal up the next time we transform," Bruce said tightly. "I'd rather not talk about it tonight." He bit the inside edge of his lips. He wasn't sure why he felt so ashamed, as if he couldn't take care of himself or he'd liked what they did to him because he deserved it.

"Okay, but you _will_ tell me the whole story when you're ready," Nat said. Bruce nodded. She continued to look at the mark. "May I touch it?" He nodded again, and she carefully ran her fingers around the wound's edges, sending shivers through him. "Wow, it's that sensitive," she murmured. "The pattern looks like a dark eclipse or something. It's actually sort of attractive as far as scars go," Natasha tried to reassure him as she slipped the undergarment off his shoulders, and he took his arms out so it slid down to his hips. She hugged him and felt more injury scarring across his back. Someone was going to die for this . . . eventually, just not tonight.

Bruce hugged her to him. "I know what you're thinking . . . and possibly plotting, so I will tell you that Hulk took care of them, so we wouldn't have to. Okay? They are dead and gone."

She huffed, "We'll see."

He didn't respond to her fierce remark though he did appreciate the sentiment. "Now you know why I couldn't send you postcards," he teased, trying to keep her from brooding. "Do you forgive me now?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Banner," she tried to snark back and reached up to draw him down to meet her lips. That's when the size difference hit her. It took all of her training not to pull away and start checking immediately. He was thin, like always, but he'd put on some muscle, probably through physical labor, that was expected, but the couple of inches she'd attributed to the boots were still there when he was barefooted. It had to be due to the significant amount of time Hulk had been out. She made herself relax. Bruce was sensitive enough about his body and Hulk, so he didn't need her to heap more angst on him. In the end this would not matter. What did matter is that he was home, and he still loved her. And, o, мой Бог, could he kiss!

Just maybe, Bruce thought, Natasha had focused back on living in the moment with him when she started getting more aggressive with her mouth and tongue, but he wasn't completely positive until her hands went to his ass. He mirrored her and squeezed her lovely backside through her jeans. Natasha rubbed her body up and down his front, giving him an encouraging grind with her hips. "Oh, yes," he moaned. That had really woken up parts of him that were soon going to be obvious. "Let's get you out of these jeans," he told her as he reached down and unbuttoned them. "I do have to ask first, did you bring protection?"

Natasha giggled, "Silly boy, I brought more than one kind." She gave him a quick peck on the nose, and he returned one on her forehead.

"As long as they include a box of condoms. When I'm me, the radiation hasn't been a problem for a good while, so we should be okay. Hulk and I are communicating pretty well, so I don't think he'll have any issues with us being together or me getting 'excited'. We just need to go nice and slow, at least at first."

"Okay, ' _slow_ ' is our word. We'll take our time," she assured him, running her fingers through the dark hair on his chest and kicking off her ankle boots. She backed away a step and peeled down her jeans while he watched appreciatively. His heart almost fluttered when she revealed her gossamer black panties matched her bra. "By the way, I brought your Beats and your MP3 player along with whatever Tony threw in a duffle bag for you to wear. That's why I ran so late getting to the Cormorant and Tun."

Bruce had almost lost himself looking at her. "Oh, well, thank you for arranging that. It'll be a relief to be done with most things from Sakaar."

"Maybe these first?" Natasha asked as she slid his one-piece off his hips, so it dropped around his ankles and onto the floor. She kissed a quick trail down his chest and stomach as she bent down and picked his discarded garment up from where he'd stepped out of it. "This, I will enjoy burning in that portable fire pit next door."

Bruce genuinely laughed at that. "I will provide the matches." He was finally naked, and despite all the distractions, the sight of her in black lace lingerie was getting him hard and erect very quickly. He'd seen her nearly naked before when he treated her for injuries in the field or if she had a reason not to seek out a doctor at S.H.I.E.L.D. for something minor.

Bruce went down on his knees, pulling her to him, so he could bury his face in her crotch. He kissed and rubbed her through the silky, translucent panties. She moaned his name. Bruce thought about ripping the lace at the sides, but opted for backing her onto one of the loveseats. "I've dreamed of eating you out since Kolkata," he confessed as he pulled the lingerie off over her legs. Natasha spread her knees, and Bruce guided her legs over his shoulders. He kissed her strong creamy thighs, pausing when he detected a scar on one and licking at it. She shivered and groaned, wanting him so much. He looked up at her with those dark eyes and dilated pupils, "I'm going to mark you because you're mine now." He picked the spot high on the inside of her right thigh where the nerves were quite sensitive and the veins and arteries were close. Bruce nipped and then sucked hard as Natasha cried out and tugged at his hair. He backed off once he'd left the blossoming mark of red and purple on her leg.

"I want you, Bruce," she whispered breathlessly. "I knew you'd be the kind of lover I need."

He smiled up at her and stroked the silky, reddish-gold patch of hair on her mons before gently parting her nether lips. "It really turns me on that you're wet for me. I'm not going to stop until you beg me or you come for me." He licked at the rose-colored edges of her slit then blew on her exposed nub that was getting darker and more prominent. She smelled like musk and citrus to him as he breathed in her perfume.

"Oh, I knew you'd make me ach for you," she told him, lifting and thrusting her hips to meet him.

"Of course," he purred in a deep silky register and began licking around her clit before finally using his lips to kiss and then suck. She cried out excitedly and arched her back. Bruce shifted his right arm further down, so he could penetrate her with his index finger, adding a second one as she gasped and tried to hump him. She was oh, so wet. Bruce gripped her firmly and reached for the spot high in her pelvic arch as he finger fucked her, and her inner muscles jerked hard as he found the spot.

"Oh, Bruce!" she cried as she grabbed at his short hair. He swirled and fluttered his tongue on her clit and felt her come indisputably hard. "Oh, God!" She pulled his hair, and it felt good and exciting to him. Bruce retreated a bit and watched her skin flush rosy pink and red, especially along her throat and chest.

"Mоя красивая русская," he murmured. He hoped he'd gotten his Russian right.

"My God, Bruce, you've done me in," she leaned forward and pulled his face up to hers and kissed him, tasting her juices on his lips. She was never going to let him go again.

"Where are the condoms?" he asked breathlessly as they separated after a few minutes, so their hearts could catch up.

"In the bedroom on the nightstand," she pointed to the open door.

"Are you recovered enough? I don't want to hurt you," he inquired. "You came pretty hard."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "What about you?"

He almost laughed and leaned back so she could see how hard he was getting and threw up his hands for emphasis, "Ta-da! I doubt I could get much readier, Nat."

Natasha's eyebrow went up. She'd seen him naked before—Hell, she'd seen Hulk naked before!—but she'd never seen him fully aroused like this.

In the back of his mind, Bruce braced himself for what might be coming. He'd heard the crude zucchini and pickle comments and the _Who's the real 'monster' in the sheets?_ jokes. He loved her, but part of him was ready for anything. "Well?"

"God, you're gorgeous. Are you sure you want a condom?"

"Unless Tony sent the new phone which is supposed to have a spectrometer, I don't want to risk poisoning you."

"Don't say another word," Natasha said and hopped up off the loveseat and disappeared into the bedroom. Bruce got up and followed her in. She had a large duffle bag open on the foot of the bed and was quickly going through it. "Here we go!" She handed him a red box with a trademarked blue and gold triangle inside a circle. "Hate owing him favors, but this might be a big one," she said.

Bruce unpacked what he recognized as a prototype phone and laid the packaging on the dresser with the adaptor. "As my grandmother would say, 'God bless his pea-picken heart,' he's even charged it," Bruce muttered. He noticed Tony had also done most of the setup, so he went right to the spectrometer app. "Really, a Hulk fist icon," he gave a snort, at least it wasn't a zucchini. Thankfully, it was a very straightforward application, and the scan came back well into the safe range. "Now, let's hope it didn't take a crotch shot, too." He showed Natasha the reading.

"Hot damn!" she said and reached around him to grab his ass and rub into his naked front with a big I-told-you-so grin on her face. She'd already cleared the luggage off the bed and thrown back the covers. "How do you want to do this, Big Guy?"

Running his hands over her backside, Bruce gave her an off-center smile and looked into her excited green eyes. "First, I want to take your bra off. Then I just want to pay attention to your breasts and fuck you till you come again. That's my plan. However, I'd welcome any input that will help us reach those goals," he half joked.

"Oh, I just want to get you off in the most enjoyable way possible," she told him, playing along. "I think we can combine those goals."

"First, then . . . here," he said, and reached behind her to unfasten the unencumbered clasp, and he gently removed her sexy black bra. Bruce made a show of looking through the gossamer material before he tossed it on the dresser next to the phone. He kissed her before he touched her breasts, taking them in his hands and kneading them, hoping his hands weren't too rough.

"One goal down," she said and stretched luxuriantly with her back arched into him while her hands extended above her head like a dancer, clearly enjoying his attentions.

"Did I ever tell you how lovely your breasts are?" he half teased.

"Why no, not specifically," she said, still playing it straight, "but you've always been too gentlemanly to cop a feel, unless you want to count that face plant into them behind the bar at that wild party a while back."

"I'm sorry," he said with a blush, "but it was in the middle of a fight and you did pull me down on top of you. Plus, I didn't turn green. Anyway, now that I have permission, they are quite nice to touch." Bruce rolled the nipples just enough to make them draw up. He bent down and licked and sucked each lovingly before kissing her equally lovely lips. "Research says they taste delectable. I'm certain this finding will hold up to scrutiny, but I'm sure more samples will be needed."

She noted how his voice dropped lower when he got into the intimate roleplaying. It was definitely sexy, especially when he was enjoying the banter. "Did I ever tell you that your ass is by far the best on the team, Dr. Banner?"

"Really? No kidding?" He broke character a bit because he was surprised to hear that, even if she was just kidding.

For emphasis, she worked his glutes with her hands some more, "I'm not kidding. You definitely have the most talented mouth, too. But, I'll have to field test that joystick of yours though I'm pretty sure you have the best junk period."

Bruce snorted and started laughing because he couldn't hold it in. He was also blushing self-consciously. "Field testing my _joystick_? I do love it when you talk kind of science dirty."

"'Hmm. 'Dirty science' sounds like a field we need to explore together," she purred, smiling ever so coyly. With that she backed up and sat down on the edge of the bed with its crisp white sheets and coverlet. Bruce's impressive cock bobbed in front of her now, and she smiled up at him with a wicked look in her green eyes. Natasha skillfully wrapped her hand around his veined shaft, and he inhaled sharply before he relaxed and moaned as she stroked him back to fullness.

"If you're going to take me in your mouth, please promise me you won't swallow any of my cum," Bruce said looking gravely serious. "Even if the radiation reading is low. I'm not sure this is a good idea. It really makes me nervous."

"I won't, but we need to have a talk about this notion that you're toxic and going to harm me just by your presence or casual contact. Some of your concerns are well-founded, but others go way beyond what the accident did to you, Bruce. We're going to work this out because you deserve so much better than what you allow yourself." He gazed down into her beautiful face with its look of honest concern for him. Logically, he knew she had a really valid point, but he had grown very comfortable with his self-loathing. Bruce knew that's exactly what it was. In fact, he knew his fears had been his walls and armor that he hid behind and used to push others away. He wasn't sure if he could let them go, but with her next to him, he would try.

"We'll take it slow," she assured him again as she kissed the swollen purple head of his cock. He gripped her shoulders, and she rubber her face into his stomach, letting her hair trail across his erection. His breathing quickened, and she held back a moment till he calmed down a bit. "You smell so good, so masculine," she told him in a low voice. Bruce had his own musky but sweet smell that made her think of caramel. She hadn't realized how much she missed that. Just to be a little naughty, Natasha bent down and blew across his balls, which drew up as he shivered. She ran her nose and lips along his shaft's length before starting to lick at the base of it. The pre-cum was oozing from the slit at the tip as Natasha worked upward and finally wrapped her lips around the head.

Bruce moved his hands to her head, lacing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. "Holy fuck! Oh, Natasha!" He couldn't help but rock his hips because he so wanted to thrust. Natasha bobbed her head, opening her jaw and throat as much as she could, and taking him deep. He couldn't deny how good her lips and mouth felt around him, but he was going to run right over the edge if she kept it up. If that happened, _Sorry, no 'joystick ride'!_

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to last much longer like this. Could we maybe move to the bed and just let me fuck you? Would that be okay?"

She stopped and wiped her mouth, "Sure, it's okay. I'd like that, too." She steadied him with her hands on his hips for a moment as he caught his breath. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you. That just felt so good!" Bruce bent down and kissed her. He could taste a bit of himself lingering on her lips. "It's just been such a long time."

Natasha winked at him as she backed up on the bed to get centered. It was queen-sized and seemed good and firm. She hoped the frame was as solid as the bedstead looked. "You're doing fine, Big Guy. Come here. I'm getting lonely," she teased.

"Oh, no. I wouldn't want that to happen!" Bruce told her as he crawled across the bed to her. He kissed her lovely legs, her knees with their scattering of freckles, her strong pale thighs, and then her stomach. He softly tongued her abs to get a giggle out of her. There were a couple of small older incision marks low, near the line of red-gold pubic hair, that Bruce realized were from the tubal ligation. He kissed those and mentally added them to the tally of scars he already knew she had. Bruce could identify exactly how many and where the scars were he'd observed on her, but he was sure she had gained a few more in his absence. He moved on to kiss her ribs and then he lingered over her breasts. She moaned as he sucked one and then the other nipple. "Have I told you how wonderful your breasts are lately?"

"Why, yes, I seem to recall something. Now, shut up and fuck me, Dr. Banner," she teased him.

"Oh, I plan to do just that," he assured her while gently moving her thighs a little further apart and rubbing his cock against her pubic mound. Bruce teased her a bit, taking his time as he lined up the head with her vaginal opening.

Natasha's hands had been exploring him. She was trying to just enjoy touching Bruce and not count scars. In the back of her mind, she asked herself why she viewed her own scars as battle marks, things she'd earned, like a tally carved on a gun handle, while his made her think of wounds that hurt him and completely angered her? If the perpetrators weren't already dead, she vowed they'd wish Hulk had done the honors first. This was the second thing she planned to ask him when they finally got to talk, right after why they left her.

The redhead leaned up and nipped at his chin, so Bruce took her hands in his to hold her down. He knew all she needed was leverage, and he'd be on his back, but it was fun to play a little here. He found the sweet spot with the head of his cock and eased into her, not wanting to hurt her. She was still blessedly wet and so good and tight around him.

"Yes, oh yes," she gasped as he penetrated her. "Fill me up, Bruce. I want all of you in me." He was admirably endowed, but she could handle him. He chewed his lower lip and watched her closely, weight balanced on his elbows. She moaned happily as he settled in and adjusted to her body. "God, you've been worth the wait!"

Bruce smiled with amusement and shook his head, "Wrap your legs around me, and we'll see how you like the 'joystick'." He leaned down and nuzzled into her neck. "You're so wet for me. That just makes me want to fuck you so hard. I can't believe you're mine."

"Fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck me as hard as you want. You're mine, Doc. All mine."

"Oh, I will fuck you hard. First, I'm going to mark you," he whispered as he started to slide his cock in and out of her. Bruce placed his lips high on her neck and kissed down to where it met her shoulder. He bit firmly into the sensitive spot with the tension she had stored there in the muscle. Natasha gasped and he sucked hard and marked her. "Mine," he whispered roughly as he released her neck and her wrists. "Now, I'm going to make you come."

"I'm all yours, Bruce. Yes, take me over the edge again. Yes. Yes." She whispered more and more loudly until it was a cry, "Yes. Yes. Yes!"

He ground into her as she dug into his back with her nails. "Come for me, Nat." He felt her shudder and tighten around him as they pounded into each other. Natasha uttered his name and cried out again, so he finally let go. "Oh, Natasha!" All of the built-up tightness he'd felt at his core released and his hot fluids filled her. He could hear a satisfied rumbling in the back his mind from the Other Guy. _She's MINE_ , Bruce thought, not willing to give an inch on that. _All mine. Not yours._ Hulk wasn't happy, but he backed off. Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. They'd have to get their boundaries clearly defined, but now wasn't the time for a fight. Bruce braced himself on his elbows and tried to catch his breath for a moment before he pulled out and rolled onto the bed beside her. "I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too." She rolled on her side and cuddled close. "I love that joystick of yours as well," she teased him, running her fingers through the hair on his chest and passing him some tissues to clean up.

Bruce laughed, "It loves you and your wonderful parts, too." He shifted so he could run his hands over her.

Natasha touched his face, "Well, for once we didn't miss our window, did we?"

"Never again," he assured her. "Never ever again."

They could hear another song drifting up from the pub, but for once Bruce didn't recognize it though it certainly sounded romantic with a lone female voice and a violin. He reached over and turned off the light and threw the covers over them as they nestled in each other's arms. "That's a pretty melody, but I can't place it," he told Natasha.

She listened for a moment, "That's Maeve and Thom who are probably performing 'Honeymoon' by Lana Del Rey for us. It came out about two years ago."

 _There are violets in your eyes_

 _There are guns that blaze around you_

 _There are roses in between my thighs_

 _And a fire that surrounds you_

Bruce smiled and she could see him listening in the moonlight that sneaked in around the curtains. "I'm surprised Maeve can sing without a brogue."

Natasha snorted, "Did she do her over-the-top accent for you?"

"Uh, yah, I thought she sounded kinda like a local, maybe? I've not been to the Lowlands before."

"She'll appreciate that. She's from Chicago. You met her on the Helicarrier. Surveillance technology specialist. Crazy big Cubs fan . . ."

"Oh, she had browner hair then. Darn, I could have asked her how the Cubs are doing." For a half second, Natasha considered telling him about the World Series win, but she thought it would be something he and Maeve would like to discuss at length tomorrow after breakfast while she debriefed Thor and then figured out what they were going to do to save the universe. "I'm sure they've been pathetic," he said with a yawn. Natasha nudged him over, so she could be the big spoon with her knee on his hip and her right arm stroking the hair on his stomach and chest. Her fingers ran across the scar high on his right breast and settled there. Bruce moaned contentedly, "Careful or you'll turn the joystick back on."

"Really? I'll be sure and remember that at 6:30am, Doc." Nat hugged him tighter and kissed the nape of his neck, calculating how long it would be before his curls grew back. It didn't matter to her how gray they were or not.

"Only, if I don't remind you first, Love," he murmured, and they drifted off to sleep as the chorus was lost in the calming sound of the North Sea waves.

 _Our honeymoon_

 _Our honeymoon_

 _Dreaming away your life_

 _Dreaming away your life_

 ** **End Notes:**** My take on the characters is mostly Whedon's spin on the Avengers, but the comics, cartoons, and television shows occasionally come into play. For this piece, I've pulled from sources as diverse as Planet Hulk in the comics and what Taika Waititi has put out so far-the _Thor Mocumentary: While You Were Fighting_ , the _EW_ stills, and the first Ragnarok Trailer, and even the Lego sets. Aside from these, this is all head canons and soon to be mostly AU because Marvel is not about to go where Chapter 2 does. I just hope we get a little continued affirmation for the ship in the films.

Hope you enjoyed it! Comments, Kudos, Favorites, and conversations always welcome. Please share and point other readers this way.

If you're a Bruce and Natasha fan or just an Avengers fan, please feel welcomed to take a look at my other smaller works or the really big one, _Special Needs: A Bruce and Natasha FanFic_ , all here on the site.

I'll have the poster collage cover thing for this chapter up on Pinterest soon.


End file.
